Reunion
by justTrip'n
Summary: Sequel to "Heresy" in parallel E2 universe. Trip has just escaped from a year of captivity with the Triannon missionaries. Back on Enterprise, T'Pol has been coping with the prospect of a pon farr without her husband. Joyfully, anxiously, they reunite.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** I am eternally grateful to the real writers, producers, and owners of Star Trek! No infringement intended.

**Genre:** Drama, Romance

**Draws on the episodes:** "E2 and "Chosen Realm"

**Summary:** This story follows "Heresy," in my E2 series. In "Heresy," set in the E2 universe, Trip and his "niece" (a daughter of Phlox and Amanda) were captured by the ultra-religious Triannons, who (as you recall from the episode "Chosen Realm") worship the Spheres. This story takes place in a parallel branch of the E-squared universe that was created by an anomaly.

Trip has just escaped from the Triannon missionaries with the help of a woman he has talked(?) into defecting. Excited, and with some trepidation, Trip reunites with his wife T'Pol. Absence makes the heart grow fonder . . . but also raises certain . . . um . . . "logistical" difficulties for our favorite interspecies couple.

Chapter 1

Trip could still hear intermittent sobs coming frfom the Triannon shuttle.

Trip had parked the stolen vehicle on a narrow rocky beach. _Pod One_ had set down nearby. A scattering of boulders had fallen from the bluff above. The spot was relatively inaccessible to those on the ground and, thanks to the cliff, invisible to scans from above. Not only had they survived a daring escape, but after a year and a half of confinement, Trip was now breathing the fresh air of a Minshara-class planet. He wished he could savor the moment.

Trip sat on his heels and squinted into the wind coming off of the ocean. At last, Malcolm exited the alien shuttle. The security officer cocked his head at his former best friend as if he were no longer sure what to make of him.

Malcolm began in a quiet tone. "Your girlfriend's just too dangerous. I don't see how I can even allow her on _Enterprise."_

"She's _not_ my girlfriend," Trip returned.

"Ah. I see . . .," Malcolm answered carefully.

"And I know she's been weaponized . . ."

"The bioexplosives in her system won't be easy to neutralize . . . If she were to decide to self-destruct, she could take out a whole cabin, or even blast a hole in our hull!"

"But she won't! Malcolm, I've sparred with you for years even though you claim you can kill with your bare hands. I know it's safe. Same with Tiva. Look, she's rejected the Triannon way of life. That's why she came with us."

"She aided your escape because she's _in love with you . . ._ You told her you'd divorce T'Pol?!!" Malcolm asked incredulously.

"I never said that," Trip protested, "though I might have implied it. . . .Look she was almost ready to help me escape!" Trip's eyes rolled skyward in frustration, but he wasn't backing down. "Look! I DID IT for T'Pol! And Lorian and Destiny . . . Hell, I did it for all of us. I've got crucial intelligence on those spheres. They weren't just going to release me with that kind of information. Not EVER!"

Malcolm shook his head, ruefully. "Forgive me . . .you're right."

"Desperate times . . . you know?"

"Yes, I suppose I do." Destiny descended from the Triannon shuttle and began climbing on the rocks. "You're free and that's what's important."

"Destiny," Trip called, "Go get us some food from the pod." The teenager complied with barely a sigh and headed into the pod. She knew they just wanted her out of earshot.

"So what now?" Malcolm asked. "You said you needed me."

"Well, you're single. I thought if Tiva met you . . . it might cheer her up?"

"You're offering me your old girlfriend!?" Malcolm asked, affronted.

"I'm not offer'n anything! And she's _not_ my girlfriend," Trip shouted back , before switching to a lower voice. "Look, I'm begging for some help. No one's asking you to marry her, but would it kill you to be charming? If T'Pol suspects there's something going on . . ."

"Which there isn't . . ."

"A 'course not," Trip insisted.

Malcolm accepted this with a nod, looking anxious.

"So, can you go back in that shuttle and try one more time to turn off turn off the sprinkler system? 'Cause I've tried everything. I told her that I like her, but I'm married. That maybe we're a couple in one of those parallel universes we've seen on her ship. I told her that I'm too old for her. And that she'll ruin my life if she makes trouble once we get home. If she DOES care about me, she'll have to stop."

Malcolm clapped his friend on the shoulder. "We'll find a way. . _. _we always do. Bloody hell, _you_ just fought your way off _a prison ship!_"

Trip accepted the congradulations with a heavy sigh. "Escaping was the easy part," he muttered as his friend ducked back into the shuttle.

A half hour later, Tiva exited the shuttle, a step ahead of Malcolm. She appeared sullen, but resigned. She looked up at Trip and Destiny, sitting on the rocks. Trip acknowledged her with half a wave.

"There, there. That's better," Malcolm told the group, approvingly. "I knew we could all kiss and make up."

Trip glared at Malcolm, who shrugged his shoulders.

"It's a say'n," Trip clarified for the benefit of the alien. "Come on, lets all take a walk . . . as long as we're here."

"The view is spectacular," Malcolm observed.

"That's why I chose this landing site," Trip said.

The four began picking their way across the rocks, heading down slowly down the shore. The air was cool and the waves were ten feet high.

"I'm going to go stick my feet in the water," Destiny announced, as she inched across a ledge, hanging two meters over the crashing waves

"NO!" Trip and Tiva shouted in unison, or at least Tiva shouted something in the tone of scolding teachers everywhere. "She's never been on a planet before," Trip apologized, before running after the girl.

"That child is not cautious," Trip heard Tiva say to Malcolm, who was no doubt acutely aware of the fact. Destiny had wandered off of _Enterprise_ with a stranger on that fateful day a year and a half ago, foiling the minimal security precautions Malcolm had put in place. Now Trip had brought her back. "Stay away from the water," he told her, "I want to get you home alive, and in one piece." Destiny wandered toward the cliffs.

"So, this is like Florida?" Tiva asked. At last she was attempting to be cheerful.

"Ah… not much," Trip admitted, "but it's a beach. It almost smells the same. It's warmer at home. We've got palm trees, different birds. White sand instead of rocks."

"This looks more like the Oregon Coast," Malcolm suggested.

"Are you from the Oregon Coast?" Tiva asked Malcolm.

"No. But my parents live in Malaysia. Malaysia looks a lot like Florida."

"Your parents _live there?"_ Tiva asked, amused. She glanced at Trip who seemed to share in the joke.

"What's so funny?"

"Your parents haven't even been born yet," Tiva said.

"She knows," Malcolm stated in surprise.

"That we're from the future? Sure. She was my only friend on the ship for a year. It had to come up."

"I wish you'd been a little more careful with our sensitive information," Malcolm chided.

"What's the big deal?" Trip asked. "We've brought other aliens on board. They all know the story."

"Charles is right," Tiva affirmed. "You don't have to fear me. I've dedicated my life to the greater good."

"I thought you'd rejected your religion," Malcolm said.

"Only parts of it. Once, I thought I could transform the Expanse. Now I just hope to improve my little part of it," Tiva looked to Trip for support.

"You've made a good start today," Trip assured her, taking her hand and squeezing it once. She faced him with puffy red eyes and a brave smile. Then she let go to climb over the rock ahead. Trip stood behind and watched her with a wistful look.

When Tiva had cleared the rock, Malcolm asked, "If T'Pol can read your mind, she'll know exactly what transpired on that ship. How will Tiva's cooperation make any difference?"

"I'm afraid my bond with T'Pol may have weakened. It sort of needs to be "recharged" every seven years."

"So the pon farr recharges the bond," Malcolm guessed.

"Yeah and I think I might have missed it." Trip confided "Her cycle's pretty regular . . . " Trip stopped in his tracks and his eyes narrowed. "Malcolm … how do you think T'Pol would handle the pon farr without me?"

"Discretely?" Malcolm suggested, with a sideways glance.

Trip continued, uneasily, " Mal, I'm afraid she did it with someone else . . . "

Malcolm winced before turning to study the waves.

"Well, maybe she had to," Trip added defensively.

"If that were true . . . how would YOU handle it?" Malcolm asked carefully.

"What CAN I DO?" Trip threw up his hands. "Ignore it . . . I guess. . . .I mean . . . I wasn't there. Thinking about it would just make me mad . . . . It's probably better not to know the details."

They walked a while in silence. Finally, Malcolm spoke up. He jerked his chin towards the woman climbing the rocks. The way she stood up to the wind as it whipped her robes around her made her look fierce and lovely at the same time. "I'm wondering if you shouldn't hope T'Pol can't read your thoughts . . . I think you _like_ that girl."

"Well, how could I not . . ?" Trip confessed and Malcolm returned a twitch of a smile. Tiva was young and had approached him boldly. _It was sort of flattering . . . _"Still, . . . all I want is everything back the way it was . . . , " he said out loud. He was eager to get back to being a husband, father, chief engineer . . .

They had all stopped walking. There were rocks ahead as far as the eye could see. The waves were awesome. They paused to take in the view.

"So have we seen enough beach?" Trip called to the group. The planet's star was setting—quickly. Soon it could be much cooler.

Tiva, Destiny, and Malcolm looked to him expectantly. "Uncle Trip, is it time to go back?" Destiny asked, grinning like her Denobulan father.

"It's way past time. Come on, we're outta here!"

Destiny squealed with excitement and leaped across the rocks back to _Pod One._

On the short flight home, Tiva seemed in better spirits. Destiny giggled as she and the teacher passed a camera headset back and forth and posed for pictures. The toy kept the girl distracted. The excitement was building as they crawled along at impulse, every minute a hundred kilometers closer to their families on _Enterprise._

Trip quizzed Malcolm on the status of things back on _Enterprise._ "So otherwise, how's T'Pol?"

"It was hard for her."

"I'm surprised she would let on. Did she seem emotional?"

"I've seen her somewhat emotional. Don't worry, I'm sure she'll be fine as soon as you're back."

"How's Lorian?"

"He's all grown up. For a while it looked like he and Paris Mayweather were a couple."

"Huh!"

". . . but that seems to have blown over. The Captain is integrating the oldest children into the crew. They do all the grunt work and are loving it! So am I, to be honest."

"So, I'll never have to scrub another plasma conduit?"

"Not if you don't want to."

"Who's chief engineer?"

"Rostov."

"How's he do'n?"

"He takes the job quite seriously. Doesn't like to push the engines. _'Enterprise_ has to last for the next hundred years.' That's his mantra."

"How's maintenance?"

"We've fallen on hard times. We had to sacrifice jobs to look for you and Destiny."

"How's the engines feel?"

"Smooth, I guess. To be honest, I don't pay much attention. As long as we can still outrun the pirates I'm happy with the engines. But I have to say . . . I've only heard good things about Rostov. Your crew is quite impressed with the job he's done. "

"So . . . while I was gone . . . were people talking behind my back?"

Malcolm turned in surprise. "Whatever do you mean? Everyone has the utmost respect for you."

Trip scowled ominously. "Even after I go and get myself kidnapped? Leave my wife stranded?"

Malcolm took a long time to formulate his answer. "Trip . . . , " he began hesitantly, "While you were gone, T'Pol and I became close. I was the one assigned to look for you and Destiny."

"Well . . . that's nice." Trip answered, distractedly, "And you still can't guess who might've helped her with . . . ?"

He would have finished the thought, except now _Enterprise _loomed into view and they all fell silent. The huge, battle-scarred ship had never looked so beautiful. They drifted towards the opening door of the shuttle bay.

Trip held his breath as he lifted the pod's hatch. It had been so long. How would T'Pol react? And suddenly she was there, standing above him on the catwalk with Phlox and Amanda. T'Pol appeared perfectly collected. Other than the intensity of her stare. A shiver ran through him, which might have been the reawakening of the bond.

He ran up the steps and T'Pol reached for him. He grabbed her in a hug that lifted her off the ground. She was just as strong and warm as he remembered. She buried her face in his neck. She was shaking as she gripped him. He kissed her hair, the only part of her he could reach with his mouth. She was solid and real. A fantasy that had kept him alive for over a year was back in his arms. "Yeah, I'm here. I'm not go'n anywhere. . ." He felt a profound relief that he hadn't been forgotten, and then, when T'Pol still didn't release him . . . a tinge of remorse. _What have I done to her?_

" . . . Hey, where's Lorian?" He demanded of the group. After a moment T'Pol was able to answer. "He's coming, Trip. He's matured somewhat while you've been gone."

A young man rounded the corner. "Dad," he acknowledged, in an impossibly deep voice. Trip released his wife and reached out for the boy, who grabbed him back. He didn't even have to wrestle his son into a hug.

"I thought I'd never see you again," Lorian whispered in a horse voice that didn't seem like his.

"I'm so sorry I was gone," Trip embraced the boy he hardly recognized and signaled his amazement to T'Pol. *He's so BIG!* He wasn't sure she caught it; but there was so much going on.

Lorian waited for Phlox and Amanda to let go of Destiny. Then Lorian greeted her as well.

Malcolm viewed the reunions awkwardly. T'Pol seemed to sense his discomfort. She'd regained her perfect composure and turned to him. "I appreciate everything you did for us."

Malcolm nodded, graciously. "T'Pol, this is Tiva," Malcolm said, "She aided their escape."

"I am in your debt," T'Pol told the younger woman.

"No, it was the right thing to do," Tiva replied, with a warm and open smile. "The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few."

". . . or the one," The Vulcan finished.

"Charles has told me so much about you." Tiva continued.

"I see that he has," T'Pol answered, raising an eyebrow at her husband. She was signaling her approval and Trip smiled in relief.

"Where is everyone?" Lorian asked.

"The captain thought we might need some privacy," T'Pol explained.

*We're going to need a hell of a lot of privacy tonight!* Trip teased his wife, sending his evening plans through the bond. She made no response.

"You can't hear me, can you?" Trip verbalized.

"Nor you, me," T'Pol returned. Even without the bond, Trip could read the disappointment in that bland expression.

"Then, we'll do this the old fashioned way."

Trip took T'Pol's face in his hands, and they leaned in nose to nose. "I love you. I can't wait to get back together with you," he told her softly.

She stood on her toes to reach his ear. "You are in fact _back_ with me," she returned.

"Yeah, and I only want more."

"I concur." She hesitated only a moment. ". . . And I love you too."

Trip grinned from ear to ear. "See, I think I like it _better_ this way. I don't think I've ever heard you say that . . . out loud."

"It IS a special occasion," She answered, as if an excuse were required. She pulled back and adjusted his sleeve to check the tattoo on his bicep.

"Still there," he assured her. The archaic Vulcan symbols had given him hope through the darkest days of his captivity—but now he had pulled through that tunnel to the other side. "I need to tell you about the facility where they treated me! Those Triannons DO have some amazing deities . . . I may finally understand this network . . ."

She smiled . . for one brief second. He was stunned. She was beautiful.

She regained control. "I feared they had changed you. I am relieved to see that you are . . . happy."

"Sure! It wasn't that bad," He said it to console her. Just then Trip heard a commotion and turned. A crowd had gathered outside in the hall. The door swept open and he beamed a smile as he burst into the corridor to accept hugs and congratulations from Jon, Hoshi, Travis and the rest of the crew.

Trip huddled with Archer in a corner of the mess hall where a party was in full swing. Rationing had been suspended as the cook brought out a month's supply of cakes, fruit, meat, and alcohol. If they had to subsist on Silarian tubers and resequenced protein powder till the next supply run, then so be it. Tonight would be worth it.

The hall was filled with shouts and laughter, and the younger kids chased each other in circles through the crowd.

"I saw the sphere that holds the key to this thing," Trip told Jon. "It's smaller than the others. I believe the Makers . . .the sphere builders . . . have succeeded . . .

He smiled and held up his beverage, acknowledging a long-distance toast from a crewman across the room.

" . . . in optimizing the Expanse to their requirements within the vicinity of this sphere . . . . " He was interrupted by another well-wisher. "Anna!" He hugged the engineer. "I know. My vacation's over . . ."

Anna laughed and joined the pair. "Anyway," Trip continued to them both, "I think we can bring down the whole damn system! I've already talked to Malcolm . . ."

Lorian appeared at Trip's side and stood there.

"Where's Malcolm?" Trip asked.

"He's escorting your Triannon friend around the ship. After what happened the last time . . . ." Jon looked down at Lorian and smiled. "Well, we can finish this tomorrow. I don't want to monopolize the guest of honor. Anna, let's go refill our plates."

"I can't believe I'm back," Trip said to them all.

Jon grinned again and headed towards the buffet. Lorian spoke up as soon as the captain and the engineer were out of earshot. "I think Mom's upset."

"Yeah, she hates parties," Trip answered, scanning the room for T'Pol. The absence of the bond was already an inconvenience. He spotted his wife standing in a corner, not interacting with anyone. "I'll be back," he told Lorian, laying a hand on his shoulder to thank him for the tip.

Trip made his way through the crowd. T'Pol saw him coming. "Trip, we need to talk."

"Yeah, I can't wait to um . . . 'talk'," He gave her a wink. "I'll try to escape this party."

Her expression remained serious. She glanced towards the captain's mess, indicating a possible retreat from the commotion. Trip, beginning to worry, followed his wife into the smaller room.

The door slid shut and they were alone. T'Pol faced her husband with an anxious expression. "I am uncertain how to tell you this."

"I know I missed the pon farr . . ," he preempted. She made no response and he scrambled. "However you handled it . . . I promise, we'll get past it . . . It won't matter."

"On the contrary," she replied flatly, "my actions will significantly alter our future."

There was no psychic bond to assure him things would be all right, so he reached for her hand, and she took it.

"I managed to delay the pon farr . . ." she began.

_That's great! . . ._

" . . .for another seven years . . ."

_Damn religious fanatics . . .!_

"—through fertilization."

_Huh?_

Trip replayed T'Pol's last statement in his head. Then replayed it again. He studied her face and then stepped back to get a full-length view. Her face was tired. Her body was rounder. "You're pregnant!" He blurted out.

"I don't want to alert the others! Few people know . . . Remember, you agreed to this in principle."

They had often discussed starting over, when Lorian was full grown. They'd hoped to have a girl . . . and name her "Ocean."

"Phlox had my genetic material in stasis," Trip stated, quickly solving the puzzle.

"Yes."

"But Lorian had to be incubated in a biocylinder!" Trip objected. "There are so many variables to monitor . . ."

"If you had been here we could have pursued that option, but only an actual pregnancy would prevent the pon farr."

"But is this safe? To do it in vivo?"

"Not entirely . . . There are compatibility issues with this fetus. I am taking antirejection drugs. They make me sick."

"T'Pol, I don't know what to say . . . I mean I appreciate what you're try'n to do . . . "

She gave him a hard, challenging look.

". . . I'm not sure it's right . . ." He finished tentatively.

"It is fortunate that the bond is inactive . . ." T'Pol responded coldly.

"T'Pol!"

"It is common for human males to have mixed feelings about their partner's pregnancy . . . I would rather not be disturbed by such emotions." Suddenly her brow knit in concern. Distractedly, she continued, "Also it would be . . . unfortunate . . . if you were to experience this nausea . . ."

Trip watched her bend over and grabbed a chair for her to sit. It was weird. He really couldn't feel her pain. He hovered over her, expressing his sympathy, but he was feeling something else entirely. _Fear? Hope? Shock?_ He couldn't decide._ I'm having a baby,_ he realized and laughed in surprise.

Trip's reunion with T'Pol that night didn't quite match the picture he had painted for himself. He made love to her gingerly at first, almost reverently, careful not to put his full weight on her abdomen. But their shared love for the new life within her made up for any physical inconvenience.

_She's real,_ he marveled as he caressed her smooth, warm skin. The lack of the bond made it difficult for him to guess what she was thinking, but she quickly dropped her guard and guided him with moans and whimpers. As these became increasingly urgent, he took her hands and pinned her to her back. Her eyes closed as she writhed beneath him. Her open mouth was searching for his. He hungrily kissed it. She needed him and he needed her. Then her eyes opened, and for a moment they stared at each other in bewilderment. The truth had finally sunk in. He was home for good. They would face life together . . .

Moments later, and without exactly meaning to, he was crying out her name . . .

She cradled his face with her one free hand as he hovered above her, supporting his weight on both arms. Now, his purpose accomplished, he looked down . . . and offered a tentative smile.

"That was . . ." she was catching her breath.

"Agreeable?" he suggested lightly.

"Yes," she whispered in awe.

_Their old private joke._ In the early days, extreme understatement had helped T'Pol recover more comfortably from a loss of control. Now it was just another intimacy.

Trip collapsed alongside his wife, every nerve still tingling. T'Pol moved to wrap herself around him. With their limbs entangled, perfectly content, he floated off momentarily. Dreams and reality merged into one.

Minutes later a soft voice aroused him. "How did you manage to escape?"

He drifted back to the surface. "Tied up a pilot. Stole his shuttle. Used his recorded voice to get clearance to undock."

"I knew you were alive."

It was reassuring.

"I felt you through the bond. After a week it faded."

"I kept expecting the cavalry. Where were you guys?"

"A direct confrontation . . . risked casualties . . . As long as you remained safe on that ship . . ."

It was a little disappointing, but _Enterprise_ was a multigenerational ship . . . "Lorian . . ." Trip mumbled. It wasn't a coherent thought. He was dozing again.

"Malcolm was trying to arrange a deal." T'Pol continued, "But the Triannons are unreliable. I'm sorry you were waiting . . ." she sounded genuinely regretful.

"Nah . . .hey . . . don't," He told her gently. ". . . Everything's fine, now. It's all over."

"Trip, I began to think you were gone for good. . . I even . . ." her voice broke.

_This might be important,_ he realized, and opened his eyes.

"I even prepared for the pon farr, . . .I . . " her voice trailed off.

Trip raised himself on an elbow to peer down at her. Now he was fully awake. "You did _what?"_

"I kissed Malcolm . . ."

She stared up at her husband in fright, and he stared down at her in confusion. The information just didn't make sense.

". . . it was a preliminary encounter . . ," She explained in a something of a rush, "I thought it would be necessary . . . "

Multiple questions bubbled up in Trip's head. One burst out: "MALCOLM?? _Malcolm_ was your first choice?!"

"I wasn't sure who I could trust. And Malcolm is discrete . . ."

"I'll say!. . . . He hid this from ME!"

"I told him to wait and let me explain . . . I didn't want you to blame him. I wanted you to understand that it was my idea."

He looked at her. She seemed as alarmed as he was. "Tell me noth'n happened," Trip pleaded.

"Following a somewhat awkward preliminary encounter, I realized a more . . . significant pairing with Malcolm could do serious damage to collegial relations amongst the senior staff, . . . with repercussions for efficiency . . ."

He snorted incredulously. _Why the evasions?_

"I was afraid I would hurt you . . . ," she corrected herself. "The next day I informed Malcolm that I'd found another way."

Trip lay back and stared at the ceiling. Trying to sort it all out. _But she's still mine, right? Of course . . . Nothing would ever change that._

_Hell! What can I say?_ If he offered to forgive her, it would imply she'd done something wrong. If she knew he understood her actions, it would be even worse.

Trip flashed on Tiva, his one-time teacher. He'd been flirting with her for the past six months. _Just enough to seal the deal._ It'd been fun . . . and easy. And he wasn't yet ready to discuss it.

He shook himself back to the present. "It's OK," he said finally, before the silence went too long.

Trip turned to his Vulcan soulmate. T'Pol was searching his eyes for affirmation. _I promised it wouldn't matter. I refuse to let it matter._ He placed his hand on her belly and she covered it with her own. They shared too much to let it matter.

"We survived," Trip said in a tone he hoped would close the discussion.

She seemed relieved.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** I am eternally grateful to the real writers, producers, and owners of Star Trek. No infringement intended!

**Notes:** Thanks to my beta, **Distracted**, who steers me away from disaster. I use two asterisks to indicate communication through the bond, like this: *Hi, darling, I'm home!*

Chapter 2

The next morning Trip awakened in his own room, not in a dormitory full of Seekers. He took the first turn in the shower and came back to relax in the bed while T'Pol took her turn. His adventure with the anomaly-worshiping Triannon missionaries seemed more incredible to him with each passing day. The steel walls and worn purplish-grey carpet of his quarters were close and cozy. As he lay on his back, stretching his arms over his head, one metal bedpost began to vibrate, resonating with the engines. _We're going to warp 2_. He grabbed it to dampen the buzz.

Everything around him was intimately familiar, yet fresh and exciting, especially T'Pol, who exited the bathroom, hair damp.

"Dad?" A deep muffled voice outside the door.

"Yeah?" Trip jumped up, but Lorian had already punched in a code to let himself in.

Lorian stepped through the hatchway, carrying his clothes and a towel. His son had moved out of the Tucker quarters, but apparently not all the way out. The young man greeted his dad with a nod and a smile. "Great, it's empty," the boy noted, indicating the bathroom.

"You're bunking with your friends now?" Trip asked, a little confused.

"My friends are Reptillians."

"Lorian!" T'Pol interjected. The family enforced a strict anti-defamation policy, one that extended even to Xindi.

Lorian glanced to his dad for support. Trip just smiled and shrugged.

"Okay, then, . . . deranged," Lorian amended amicably.

Appeased, T'Pol turned to her husband. "Carlos, Asatoshi, and Glenn do not keep the cabin clean," she explained, in her son's defense, "and they often interrupt Lorian when he tries to meditate. I told him that he may return here any time they become too troublesome."

"Everything's fine, Dad. I'm not runnin' back home," Lorian declared with a hint of irritation as he disappeared into his parents' bathroom.

They waited till they heard the shower. It would drown out their conversation.

"So, he's turnin' out pretty good?" Trip asked expectantly.

"He's performing well in his studies. He has the highest rank among the recruits. Despite his concern for your welfare, he has been . . . emotionally stable."

"That's sayin' a lot. And he's sixteen?! Isn't that when the trouble's supposed to start?"

"Vulcan children are never _supposed_ to be trouble. Vulcan children are held to much higher standards than human children. But adolescent Vulcans experience particular challenges, emotional and physical, around the age of puberty."

"Puberty at 30, middle age at 100. It still seems incredible. Speakin' of your Vulcan superpowers . . . do you think this bond might just go back online?"

"It is possible. I am afraid I know very little about these things. The mating bond is not much discussed with youth on Vulcan. We learn only that it is a standard part of a healthy Vulcan marriage."

"I wish your parents had been more forthcoming. _I_ want a healthy Vulcan marriage," Trip complained.

"I remember the last time we couldn't share our thoughts, you said 'But, I'm bonded to you the way humans bond'."

He laughed in surprise. "And it's true, darlin'! . . And when did I say that?"

"Right before you proposed to me."

"You mean right before _I agreed_ to _your_ proposal," Trip corrected. After all these years, each remembered their courtship differently—and still enjoyed debating this particular point. Trip got up and headed to his locker. It was gone. "Where's my stuff?"

T'Pol lifted a cushion off a bench. It was his locker. Trip ran a few steps to it, and began rummaging through the long-lost items. He pulled out relatively new, five-year-old t-shirt and began to put it on.

After a moment he continued. "I heard Lorian had a fling with Paris." It was another thing they would normally have discussed silently.

T'Pol nodded.

"Maybe he'll take after his old man. . . ."

"Maybe . . . Trip, I think you should share some information with him regarding that possibility."

"Sure, I'll point him to the database."

T'Pol raised an eyebrow at her husband. "Phlox has already compiled a video for the teenagers. It details the sexual practices of many species. Perhaps that will be sufficient." Her tone implied that her husband was very lazy.

Trip was about to protest when Lorian exited the bathroom, dressed for work. The boy combed his fingers through his hair. He seemed to be going for a deliberately tousled look. He was so cocky. Trip could almost imagine his son bringing home two girlfriends and defending it to his parents. Or—another scary possibility— the boy might ignore the girls forever, expecting someone else to arrange his marriage. . . .

*All right you win,* Trip told T'Pol, though he knew she couldn't hear him. "I'm hungry," he announced out loud. "Who's going to breakfast?"

"I don't feel I can eat this morning," T'Pol replied.

"She's been like that for a while." Lorian sounded worried. "I don't see why Uncle Phlox can't just fix it."

"Phlox says my bio readings are acceptable," T'Pol assured them both.

"Your bio readings are acceptable and THEN SOME," Trip teased, as he grabbed his wife by the waist. He pulled her nose to nose, and began to nuzzle her. "You ready to start all over?" he murmured into her ear. If they had been alone he would have chewed on it.

"You shouldn't confuse your son," T'Pol objected, gently.

"He might think we like each other."

"He might imitate your inappropriate behavior with one of his peers."

"That would be tragic," Trip laughed. They snuggled a few more seconds. As she slid from his embrace, he pulled a hand across her abdomen and gave it a possessive pat. Lorian eyed them suspiciously.

T'Pol was on her way to her locker when she froze. Her eyes opened wide in alarm. She turned back towards the bathroom, pushing past Lorian to get there. Then they heard her throwing up. Lorian's mouth hung open in shock.

"Lorian, it's all right, trust me," Trip called over his shoulder as he hurried after his wife. She was hunched over the biowaste recycler. Slowly she straightened.

Her brown eyes were watery. _She must be miserable._

Trip watched her helplessly, mentally sending his apology.

"It's not your fault," she reminded.

Now they both looked across at Lorian, who had come to the doorway to check on his mother.

"Tell him what's up," Trip suggested firmly.

"I will, before I come to the meeting. Have the captain start without me." She moved to the sink to rinse her mouth. Today even these mundane details seemed infused with special meaning. He watched T'Pol spit in the sink--persevering through adversity. She was so stoic, and he respected that.

"Lorian." Now Trip was thinking out loud. "Maybe _you_ could attend this meeting. I want you to hear about the spheres."

T'Pol wiped her face and replaced the towel, looking poised once again. "The officers have many issues to discuss beyond the spheres." she said. "I am sure the senior staff will want to learn more details about your escape and the events leading to the defection of the Triannon."

Trip hesitated. Did T'Pol suspect something?

"Lorian can go to work, and we can debrief him later on the relevant aspects of our discussion," T'Pol suggested.

"Sounds good," Trip agreed, beginning to worry. _Surak asks us to cast out fear . . . . I didn't do anything wrong . . . I should tell her now . . ._

"Get to breakfast. I'll be fine," T'Pol told him as he hesitated. "I need to talk to Lorian alone."

Trip nodded, took a deep breath, and headed out the door.

* * *

Tiva was sitting with Major Hayes as Trip entered the mess hall. She was wearing human-style clothing. The loose robes were gone. Tiva was the opposite of his wife physically: less on top, more on the bottom. Trip still found her quite appealing, in spite of—maybe even because of—that difference. What did Henry Archer used to say? "Beyond _here_ the stars are even brighter. . ."

Of course it wasn't true, but it had helped propel them out into space . . . and into the Expanse. Tiva caught his eye even from across the room. It would be best to avoid her for a while.

The former missionary seemed embarrassed about the change in clothing style, so Trip gave her a bright smile and a thumbs up over the heads of the crowd. In fact, Tiva's outfit was mismatched. Someone had carelessly given the Triannon a tank top with tattered dress pants. Tiva barely acknowledged her co-conspirator, even though he knew she understood the hand signal. His female friend now seemed to be ignoring _him,_ and it made him slightly anxious. Was she angry? _It probably just means she's adjusting well_, he told himself firmly, turning to look for another place to sit.

Amanda and Destiny were waving him over. He happily took a seat with the large reunited family. Destiny's youngest siblings were barely recognizable after a year and a half away. The older girl poked, tickled, and pestered the youngest—a fat two and a half year old—who wasn't quite sure what to make of her new big sister. Trip watched the pair with a goofy smile on his face, remembering Lorian at that age . . . and wondering if his second baby would be as utterly amazing as the first . . .

* * *

Trip entered the conference room and glanced toward Malcolm, another person he planned to avoid for a while. Rostov was addressing the security officer. "I'd recolumnate the plasma flow . . .but it keeps drifting out of alignment . . ."

"It wouldn't do that if you'd just clean the plasma injectors once in a while . . ." Trip interjected jokingly.

"Hey, it's the 'new guy'!" returned Rostov with a grin.

"'New guy' my ass . . ." Trip countered. "I can feel my engines are still runnin'."

"Yeah, 98 % efficiency, and it hasn't been easy," Rostov answered. "Spare parts seem to be our last priority."

"Behind frivolous things like food and medicine . . , " Hoshi explained.

"And tracking down criminals . . . , " Phlox added.

". . . but I still managed to install some improvements," Rostov bragged.

"Ya don't say . . ," Trip decided to be positive. "Well, I can't wait to see 'em, Roz."

"Trip," Jon announced in a casual tone. "I want Rostov to remain our chief engineer for the time being—to give you and your family time to reacclimate."

This wasn't good. "Jon, I'm sure I can . . ."

"It's only temporary," Jon assured the former chief engineer. "Rostov's in the middle of a few projects. I'd like to give him time to wrap things up. It'll make for a smoother transition . . . "

"I _guess_ that's fair . . ," Trip answered reluctantly.

"Where's T'Pol?" Malcolm asked

"She's running late," Trip replied. "Maybe we should start without her."

"Sure. First order of business: Who's watching the alien?"

"_Jeeze,_ Jon. She has a name: Tiva."

"Sorry, Trip. I didn't mean anything by it. But she _is_ an alien."

"And _someone_ needs to watch her," Malcolm added. Trip held his tongue.

"Anyway, it's not like we're calling her a Triny," Travis noted defensively.

"A Triny?" Trip had never heard that.

"A name the children invented," Phlox explained, lightly.

"Major Hayes is 'entertaining' Tiva," Hoshi told Jon, getting back to business.

"Heavy-duty security for one little woman," Trip observed, dryly.

"Can you blame us?" Archer asked. "Every Triannon we've ever tried to work with has stabbed us in the back. Just how well do you know this person, Trip?"

"I can vouch for her." Trip shot Malcolm a warning look. Maybe Jon caught the exchange.

"Malcolm, you met her," the captain said. "What's she like?"

"She's seems to be a lovely woman. At first she was little distraught. She's made a big move, leaving her people."

"A distraught Triannon? I'm not sure I like the sound of that," Jon decided. "And she's weaponized?!"

"Perhaps there's something I can do," Phlox contributed, brightly. "I'll take a look at her today."

"Until she's disarmed, I want her guarded while she's on this ship, I regret the lapse in security that lead to Destiny's kidnapping . . ."

Trip erased a slight scowl from his face. He knew the lapse was no one's fault in particular—though it might be Malcolm's—and he was beginning to fear that the crew would try to right their past security failure by hounding the only Triannon still available.

The captain was still talking. ". . .by the way, Trip, it was a remarkable escape. I can't believe you pulled that off."

"Thank Tiva . . . ," Trip answered—a little defiantly.

Just then T'Pol entered and nodded to Trip. _She's talked to Lorian_. Trip smiled and relaxed somewhat as she took a spot by his side.

"What are we going to do with this woman on our ship?" Archer asked. "She's only qualified for . . . what . . . teaching religion?"

"Yes, but she's smart," Trip responded. "She's interested in science. The Triannon Prenoms would have us believe that some king of holy magic explains every interesting phenomenon in this sector. She's come to doubt that."

Malcolm asked, "So you propose we train her for a technical position?"

"It might take years, but sure. In the meantime, she's willing to do anything . . . routine maintenance, food preparation, childcare."

"Trip, no one would trust her with those chores." Hoshi was the one to break this news.

"She would never do anything to hurt us," Trip insisted.

"How could you possibly know that?" Jon inquired.

There was a silence as all eyes turned to Trip, and Trip looked to his wife. _Do the right thing_, Trip told himself.

"I know because . . ."

T'Pol's chin came up as she waited for his story.

"See . . . Tiva kinda has this crush on me. And I kinda . . . encouraged it . . . to get us off the ship and back home."

T'Pol did not react, so he plunged ahead. "I mean it's natural: Tiva worships the spheres . . . I've walked on a sphere . . . . In our religion class, I start showing off how much I know about these things . . . I mean, I'm an engineer . . . and next thing ya know Teacher's lookin' at me like I made 'em myself. So I just, let her . . . I don't know . . . admire me." He looked around for support. "I thought it would help!"

They all turned to T'Pol for her assessment.

"The scientific training of the average Triannon _is_ quite primitive," T'Pol began with a thoughtful expression. "A technically knowledgeable prisoner could use that fact to gain an advantage . . . In fact . . . " She seemed to lose her train of thought.

So Trip finished for her. ". . . it's logical, right?" He looked around hopefully. "Now this woman thinks I'm Superman."

The officers exchanged covert looks.

"It makes sense from a security perspective," Malcolm offered.

"I'm just surprised you pulled it off," Jon commented. "You're usually so . . ." his voice trailed off.

". . . honest?" Travis suggested.

"Indeed," T'Pol agreed, staring at her husband.

Jon pursued the issue. "After your accident, Trip, I couldn't even get you to beg the Triannon Prenom for treatment. You wouldn't lie to save your life."

"Well, it's not like I CAN'T," Trip protested. "Remember the time those pirates attacked, and I was the only one awake? I said Hoshi was my wife."

Rostov snickered. "Remember that time you 'pretended' to fall in love with a princess?" Tales from the early days were constantly rehashed among the homesick crew.

T'Pol jumped to her husband's defense. "The nature of the Commander's relationship with the princess is irrelevant. It occurred prior to our mating bond."

Trip flashed a desperate warning, forgetting he was helpless.

T'Pol had begun her lecture, "A Vulcan mating bond renders the male unable . . .

_Wrong! _he wanted to shout.

" . . . to hide his thoughts from his mate . . ."

_Oh. And she just told a lie_, he noted with astonishment.

". . . so at this point, an affair would be foolish. . ." T'Pol concluded, giving her husband a stern look. He nodded in agreement, accepting her. . . support . . . or whatever.

Archer was done harassing his best friend. "No one doubts you, Trip. We commend you on your escape. 'By any means necessary,' as a famous American once said."

Phlox eyed Trip with a reluctant smile. "Generally I'd disagree with the concept of 'the end justifies the means,' but I can't argue with results. I've got my daughter back thanks to you, Trip. I'm very grateful for that. You saved her life."

Trip gave him a brief smile and a nod, accepting this.

"I agree that our children must come first," Travis stated, fiercely serious.

"Actually there are billions of lives at stake," Malcolm reminded.

Finally Jon retook control of the meeting. "That's right. Trip's little adventure may actually help us defeat the Xindi . . . Malcolm?"

All eyes turned to Malcolm. "As Trip left the sphere, he had the presence of mind to get to a window and take rough measurements. He used his hands held at arms length."

"I left my sextant at home," Trip chuckled.

"He noted that New Betelgeuse was 15 degrees from New Deneb, above a constellation that looked like a phase pistol, and beneath a constellation like an S. We've compared this information with our maps and believe we've fixed the location of the sphere here." Beneath them the stars in a three-D star chart rolled dramatically to a stop. A transparent blob outlined the degree of error in the estimate.

"That space is 80 square light years!" Travis complained. "We could just say the sphere is near the spot we lost you."

"No," Malcolm corrected, "Trip's information takes us perhaps an order of magnitude closer to the true location."

"Maybe Tiva knows the true location," Hoshi suggested.

"She claims she doesn't," Trip replied.

"Anything else?" Jon asked the room.

"Yeah, my view was lensed by a quite a few anomalies," Trip added. "It seems the sphere is protected by some rather large bubbles of this stuff."

"That may help," Jon gave Trip a brief smile. "So before we move on to mundane topics, anything else concerning our long-range mission?

Malcolm cleared his throat, and glanced apologetically to his former best friend. "I am uncomfortable with giving Tiva any more information about it than necessary. She may be sympathetic to us, but the fact remains: if our mission succeeds, it will seriously disrupt her people's way of life."

"Trip, how much does she know?" Jon asked

"That we're from the future. That we hate these spheres. That we're investigating them. That we would like to destroy them."

"We may be closing the barn door after the horses are out, but no more about our mission, and no more about the future," Jon ordered. "Trip, I understand you shared some secrets to gain her confidence and get yourself home. But from here on out, we follow normal protocol. We know the dates the Xindi plan to attack Earth. That's quite an advantage, and I'm not ready to give it up."

"I'll warn the kids at school not to say anything," Hoshi said.

The meeting moved on to topics of trade and profit. Travis was brimming with ideas for the next freight run. Enterprise had been dragging a heavy anchor for so long, unwilling to leave behind two crewmen lost at sea. Now they could move to safer waters and more profitable opportunities.

* * *

As the officers left the meeting, Malcolm stopped in the hatchway and turned to Trip. "I was hoping we'd get back to our Wednesday sparring," the man suggested boldly, as if nothing important had happened since their last exercise session.

Malcolm waited for a response, but Trip hadn't formulated one. In agreeing to service T'Pol, had Malcolm betrayed him? In so many ways Malcolm still seemed loyal. Trip wasn't quite ready to sort it out.

"I'll get back to ya," Trip answered hurriedly, but Malcolm had become an obstacle in the doorway. _In a ka-li-fee between him and me, I wonder who would win?_ Trip daydreamed. _The guy claims he can kill with his bare hands, but . ._ . Trip fantasized he was holding a spear.

The engineer he felt his face flush red. _It__'s the fight or flight reflex,_ he realized, embarrassed. _This is ridiculous_.

"Malcolm?" Trip prompted, tilting his head to signal the guy to step aside.

As soon as Malcolm got the hint, Trip bolted out the door.

* * *

_I left him hanging,_ Trip considered, with a perverse satisfaction . . . then dismay. _I'm 52 years old and acting like a kid!_ For the last year and a half, he'd done nothing but study religion and plot to get home. _I prepared so long for this. Why is it going so badly?_

_First things first. . . find T'Pol . . ._

She was ahead in the hall. He jogged up behind her and caught her by the arm. She turned startled. He usually didn't touch her in public. She gave him a questioning look.

"Just making sure you weren't mad," he said, hopefully.

"It is fortunate for you that I am able to suppress my emotions."

"Look T'Pol, I should have given you a heads up . . . but it's really nothin'," She just stared back impassively. "T'Pol, you're scarin' me. Please talk to me?"

"We could have talked last night," she replied, logically. "If we talk now, in this hall, the others will learn about the unfortunate status of our bond."

"Yeah, why did you tell everyone it was workin'?" he asked, puzzled "I can't pretend to read your mind." As T'Pol glared back, Trip got a sick feeling that he really _could_ guess her thoughts. Shifting into damage-control-mode, he scrambled. "You headin' to engineering? I'll meet you there. We can talk in my office . . .uh . . Rostov's office!"

He had to shout this last part, as she was already striding down the corridor.

* * *

Now it was Trip's turn to be stoic. He surveyed the engineering room, silently cursing his Triannon captors . . . Everything had changed in his absence.

"Roz, these aren't improvements. This technology is a step backwards . . ."

"In sophistication, yes. But this ship has to last a hundred years. Each time a part wore out I replaced it with something a little simpler, a little more durable. It is a little-known fact that the electronics used in the Space Shuttle were out of date for decades—deliberately so."

"Core memory rather than semiconductors . . ."

"For superior reliability."

Trip was upset, but knew better than to yell at his colleague. He was no longer his commanding officer. In fact, he wasn't entirely sure of his rank relative to the younger man.

"But we're sacrificing speed . . ."

"We rarely need to go past warp 4.6.—just once in a while to dodge the bad guys. Anyway, it's dangerous to push the engines for sustained periods. See I'm switching over to technology that's readily available in this sector. Our systems are modular, so we can do this piecemeal."

"But why make these sacrifices? You and I know how to fabricate replacement parts."

"Most of the time. But what happens when we suffer extensive damage? We'll be overwhelmed. What happens when you or I are gone? It wasn't easy when we lost you. Some of the technical protocols were in your head.

"Ya can't write everything down."

"In twenty years the kids will be running the ship. Think of it, Trip . . ."

Trip imagined the fate of the world in the hands of Lorian and his friends. . . . If only they could defeat the Xindi by beating a video game or playing great basketball—Earth's future would be secure.

"Keep it simple, stupid . . ." Trip mused aloud.

"It's a sound principle."

Maybe the guy was right.

* * *

Trip was in his old office with T'Pol. Sharing it with Rostov was really no big deal. A soundproof room with a lockable door was valuable real estate on the small ship. If Trip had kept it to himself all these years, there probably would have been mutiny. For a long time the engineering staff had been taking turns with this space. The crew knew to feign disinterest whenever a couple entered or exited the room.

Today, Trip was glad he could count on at least this measure of privacy, becauseT'Pol was reading WAY too much into their little failure to communicate.

"But we ARE close," Trip was pleading.

"Our bond has weakened." T'Pol kept obsessing over this. "Perhaps if we had both been more . . . focused."

"No, the state of the bond is simply . . . a technicality . . . Our com system's down, is all. It sucks, but it has nothing to do with _us._ We're still close. We can talk!"

"Then why didn't you warn me . . ."

"T'Pol, I swear! You're the only . . ."

Inconveniently, at that moment the real com system sounded. Trip sighed inaudibly as he punched the button.

"Phlox here. It's Tiva. She's just fine . . . for the time being. We are discussing her medical options and it seems she needs a second opinion."

Despite the bad timing, Trip showed no irritation. "Tiva, you there? I'm with T'Pol. Everything all right?"

"Charles, I'm sorry. I said I wouldn't bother you, but no one else would understand. Phlox thinks he can reverse the weaponization . . . but . . ."

". . . if you go through with it, you wouldn't be accepted on Triannon . . ."

". . . should I ever want to return."

"It's no bother," Trip replied graciously, with a sad smile. "T'Pol and I are a little busy, probably for another half period, but when we're finished I'll be right over."

"Thank you."

Trip turned his attention from the maiden in distress back to the woman causing him distress. The Vulcan's hard edges had softened. "Why does she call you 'Charles'?" his wife inquired.

Trip thought back to that fateful day. Tiva had come on to him—by asking if she could call him "Trip" (a name she'd heard from Destiny). _If you want to be more personal, call me 'Charles,'_ he'd replied at the time.

He was back in the present with T'Pol. "It's how I introduce myself when I want to be professional," he answered, sincerely. "I swear T'Pol, I was just doin' my job over there. I needed to get back to you and everyone else. Tiva threw me a lifeline; I took it."

"Do you like her?"

"Yeah, I 'like' her." He admitted. "But I LOVE you!"

The fight had gone out of his wife. Trip walked over to her, touched her shoulders, and she leaned limply into him. He held T'Pol a moment rubbing her back. Relief swept over him when suddenly she clutched him back.

"I'm not perfect," he told her quietly. "But I swear. I was just doin' my best."

"I am . . . pleased the Triannon helped you return." Judging from T'Pol's shiny eyes this was clearly an understatement, and Trip melted.

"You are the mother of my children, how could you have thought . . ."

Now a hand slipped under his shirt, causing an involuntary snicker. "Hey, that tickles," he protested, then quickly reciprocated. In another minute, all systems were go. Trip backed his wife up to the nearest vertical beam to get some leverage. They glanced to the hatchway. With no special psychic bond to help, they read each other's minds like any other couple.

_Did we lock that door?_

* * *

fin

If you enjoyed, "Heresy" and "Reunion," you'll want to read "Brainstorm," which concludes my E2 saga. :D


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